


Stars

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [121]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Light Smut, M/M, freckles are angel kisses, star maps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Crowley's map has always led to Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: tumblr ficlets [121]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1250822
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon on tumblr who asked for Crowley drawing constellations on Aziraphale's body like he did when he was Raphael.

Aziraphale knew that Crowley always had his back.

He meant this figuratively, of course, because Aziraphale trusted Crowley completely: with his body, with his bookshop, with his life. They had chosen each other, after all, again and again, and at this point Aziraphale could no more bring himself to doubt Crowley than he could stop loving him.

But the peculiar thing was, he meant it literally as well.

Aziraphale moaned as Crowley gave a particularly well-placed thrust, gripping the headboard and arching back against the demon’s cock. One of Crowley’s arms was wrapped around his waist, the other holding his hip, and Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s lips peppering desperate kisses all across his back. “So good,” Crowley murmured between kisses. “You feel so good, angel.”

“I’m close,” Aziraphale panted. “Darling, please!”

Crowley let go of his hip and reached around, engulfing Aziraphale’s cock with his long fingers, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Aziraphale let out a cry of satisfaction, bucking between the touch and Crowley’s cock.

It was the demon’s favourite position on occasions where he topped. Aziraphale had wondered if it was a possessiveness issue, a sign of dominance. He had dismissed the idea quickly. Even mounting Aziraphale like this, there was no question between the two of them who was in charge.

He’d also wondered briefly if it was a question of his body, but he’d dismissed that just as quickly. Crowley also preferred to have sex with the lights on, waxed poetic about the softness of Aziraphale’s plump form, and had absolutely no problem being face to face when he was on the receiving end of Aziraphale’s cock. If it _was_ a question of his body, it was a positive, not a negative, and quite possibly had something to do with the freckles.

Crowley’s teeth scratched lightly over the skin at the nape of Aziraphale’s neck. “Want you to come for me,” he purred. “Can you do that for me, angel? Come all over my hand while I’m fucking you?”

Aziraphale moaned desperately, and a firm thrust against his prostate had him doing just that, spilling over Crowley’s fist as his body clenched tightly around the demon’s cock, milking his own orgasm from him.

They slumped down onto the bed together. With a wave of his hand, Crowley miracled away the mess, then cuddled up against Aziraphale’s back again. Aziraphale allowed himself to go boneless, melting against the mattress. Crowley was still pressing kisses to what skin he could reach, tracing patterns with his fingertips as he spooned the angel. The touch was familiar, and it relaxed him.

“Counting my freckles, are you?” Aziraphale mumbled into the pillow, a touch of amusement in his voice. His back was particularly freckled, not that he had ever been able to get a very good look at it. It was unusual, because Aziraphale didn’t appear to have much in the way of freckles anywhere else.

Crowley paused in his ministrations. “Something like that.”

“You seem to like them a great deal.”

“Well, I would, wouldn’t I?”

Aziraphale frowned. He propped himself up on his arms so he could look back over his shoulder at Crowley. Crowley stared back, brow furrowed. When Aziraphale didn’t say anything, Crowley continued, “They’re my handiwork, angel.”

Aziraphale sat up, eyes wide. Crowley sat up too, looking uncertain. “You never told me that,” Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley looked away. “I did,” he murmured. “You just don’t remember.”

A chill washed over Aziraphale. They didn’t speak about Before, the faded memories of who Crowley had been before the Fall. It was upsetting for both of them, a reminder to Crowley of all he had lost and a frustration for Aziraphale that the memories were just out of reach.

Crowley traced over Aziraphale’s shoulder, the pad of his finger connecting little dots of darkened skin. “I needed a reference map,” he said softly. “Once you put the stars up, they’re really hard to move.”

“The…stars…?”

Crowley traced a series of lines, his finger skimming almost at random across Aziraphale’s back. “Ursa Major. Cassiopeia. Eridanus. Serpens.” He paused, and then tapped a single spot with his finger. “Alpha centuri.”

“You made me your star map.”

“You never noticed before?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I couldn’t get a good look. I had no idea they were constellations. I thought they were just freckles.”

“They are.” Crowley grinned shyly. He pulled Aziraphale close and nuzzled against his cheek. “But I believe there’s a saying about freckles and angel kisses. It might only work in our true forms, but I had to place them somehow.”

Warmth ignited in Aziraphale’s chest, brighter than the stars Crowley had placed upon him. He drew the demon in for a kiss, slow and sweet. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Crowley breathed.

“For making me your map. For loving me enough for that.”

“I always loved you, angel,” Crowley said. “And I always will.” He bent down and kissed Aziraphale’s shoulder again, his lips just brushing the highest freckle. The topmost star. “That’s one thing the humans and I have in common, I suppose.”

“What is?”

Another kiss, and Aziraphale felt Crowley’s lips curve into a smile. “We both follow the stars,” he said, “knowing they’ll bring us home.”


End file.
